Safe House
by Brandon
Summary: A friend in need is a friend indeed.


TITLE: Safe House  
SPOILER WARNING: Avatar; Drive  
RATING: PG, I think. Suggestion of sexual situations; nothingovert  
CONTENT WARNING: None  
CLASSIFICATION: SRA, MSR, Skinner/other  
SUMMARY: A friend in need is a friend indeed.  
  


Safe House

by Brandon D. Ray  


As always, it started with a phone call, right at the end of the day. I had already filed away the papers I'd been studying, and put a few itemsin my briefcase to work on over the weekend. As I stood and stretched,the intercom buzzed, and Kimberly informed me that Agent Scully was onthe line.

As soon as I heard her voice, I knew what it was about. Nevertheless,we went through the ritual, as we always do.

"I'm glad I caught you before you left for the evening, sir," she said. "I was wondering if you were planning to be home tonight."

Actually, I had a date, but she didn't need to know that. "I haveno plans, Agent Scully. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Mulder and I have run up against a brick wall on the fuel-oil-and-fertilizercircuit," she replied. "I was hoping to drop by your place this eveningand try to kick it around a bit. Maybe get a fresh perspective."

"That would be fine, Agent Scully," I replied. "Will eight o'clockbe okay?"

"Eight o'clock," she said, and hung up.

I made a quick call to Mary Alice, and told her I had to work late. She was disappointed, but she understood. She knew what she was gettingherself into when she started going out with me; she knows that an FBIAssistant Director's time is not his own. We made plans to see eachother on Saturday, lingered for a few moments over private matters, andthen I told her I had to go.

The drive home was uneventful. I popped a frozen dinner into themicrowave, then went to change into casual clothes. Office gossipto the contrary notwithstanding, I do own some, and I felt more relaxedwhen I came back to the kitchen wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt.

Dinner over, I then proceeded to sweep my home thoroughly, from basementto attic, using the equipment given me by Agent Mulder's three odd friends. I lived in an apartment for awhile, after Sharon died, but I found it tobe too stifling, and eventually I found a nice house in Silver Spring,just off the Beltway. On the whole it's been an improvement, butwhenever I have to go through this process I can't help but wish for asmaller place.

Of course, as an Assistant Director I would be entitled to have theBureau's own specialists do this for me, but then I would have to explainwho I thought was monitoring my actions, and why. And of course,I would never be able to be absolutely sure that the technicians doingthe work were actually working for the Bureau, rather than for those whosescrutiny I was trying to evade.

Besides, if you want a job to be done right, you do it yourself.

After nearly two hours of work, I was convinced that my house was clean. It wasn't the first time I'd gone through this routine and come up empty,but if I had found hidden microphones it wouldn't have been the first timefor that, either. Once I even found a fiber optic, in my own bedroom. Mary Alice had been over the night before, and I hope they got an eyeful. I yanked that one out with a smile.

Agent Scully was the first to arrive, as always. She announcedherself with a light knock on the door, and I invited her inside. She was still dressed in her work clothes, and carried a briefcase. I had no doubt whatsoever that the briefcase actually contained casefiles,and that she was prepared to spend the evening discussing them with me,if for some reason that became necessary. Dana Scully is nothingif not a perfectionist.

We sat on the sofa chatting for a few moments, waiting for Mulder toarrive, and we actually did chat. Again, this is part of the ritual. She talked about her lunch with her mother, and about a movie it turnedout we had both seen recently, and I told her about the plans Mary Aliceand I had made for Saturday. It could have been awkward and uncomfortable,but for some reason these moments, when we sit waiting for Mulder, neverare. She seemed totally relaxed and happy.

Finally, Mulder arrived. He was also dressed for work and carrieda briefcase, and for a few moments he and Scully and I stood in the livingroom and continued to chat. But now the atmosphere had changed, andall three of us were uneasy, not quite able to make eye contact. I don't know what the reason is, but Mulder and I have always made eachother nervous, and tonight was no exception.

After a few moments, looking like a guilty teenager, Scully took Mulder'shand, and they turned away from me and went upstairs to my guest room.

I went back to my sofa, turned on the television and started surfingthe channels, looking for something interesting to watch. I finallyfound a rerun of North by Northwest on American Movie Classics, and settleddown to an evening of mind candy with Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint. If only real life had such happy endings, with all the loose ends tiedup in one neat little package.

Sometime after midnight, she came downstairs, dressed in jeans and apolo shirt. I can't remember when they both started keeping a changeof clothes here, and we all know it is a terrible breech of security, butit seems to make them feel a little more comfortable. She sat onthe sofa next to me, and together we watched the end of The Birds -- ithad turned out to be a Hitchcock marathon night on AMC. Once themovie was over, I turned off the television, and again we sat and talkedfor awhile.

This is another part of the ritual. I think it makes her feela little less like she's checking into a hotsheet motel, and I have toadmit that it makes me more comfortable with the situation, as well. It's also nice just to have a little downtime with one of my more favoritepeople; god knows there are few enough moments like that in my life, anymore.

About twenty minutes later Mulder came downstairs, also dressed in casualclothes. He came over to the sofa and stood in front of us for amoment, not speaking. He looked at me, and for an instant I had theridiculous feeling that he was some teenage kid and I was his girlfriend'sfather. Then the moment passed, and he leaned down and kissed herlightly on the lips, and murmured, "See ya." And then he grabbedhis briefcase, went to the front door and was gone.

Agent Scully and I chatted for a few more minutes, and she briefly gaveme an outline of the cases she was supposed to have discussed with me. Just in case. Of course, if anyone is sufficiently interested inwhat went on here tonight to ask me about that, it won't matter anyway;the jig will be up, and we both know it. But this, too, is part ofthe ritual, and it makes us both more comfortable to stay with the routinewe have built up over the last few months.

Finally, it was time for her to go. I walked her out onto my frontporch, and stood there watching as she got into her car, backed out ofmy driveway and pulled away.

And after awhile, I went back inside and went to bed.  
  


Fini 


End file.
